


A Fist of Darkness

by the_rck



Category: Original Work
Genre: Captivity, Dark Fantasy, F/M, Femdom, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Politics, Reference to pregnancy, Royalty, Tentacle Rape, Xeno, eldritch being
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-22 00:41:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11368986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_rck/pseuds/the_rck
Summary: The first time Gwenith forced Jermyn, his face was wet with tears of honest grief for his brother’s death. He hadn’t cried or begged during the long days while his brother was dying, and he almost never spoke unprompted later. It was the tears that had made her want him. They represented a softness Gwenith hadn’t expected in anyone of his birth.Tancred wouldn’t have wept for Jermyn, not unless it would buy him something.





	A Fist of Darkness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [warpropti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/warpropti/gifts).



> Title from Jordi Doce's poem, "Guest."
> 
> I hope this is more or less what you had in mind. I saw your prompt for 'queen noncons dead husband's brother' and really wanted to write a treat for it.
> 
> There's an implied threat to children here in that Jermyn thinks his children are at risk and Gwenith has no intention of telling him that they're not even though they're not.

The first time Gwenith forced Jermyn, his face was wet with tears of honest grief for his brother’s death. He hadn’t cried or begged during the long days while his brother was dying, and he almost never spoke unprompted later. It was the tears that had made her want him. They represented a softness Gwenith hadn’t expected in anyone of his birth.  
   
Tancred wouldn’t have wept for Jermyn, not unless it would buy him something. The wonder was actually that Tancred had ever let Jermyn live. An older half-sibling, even one made bastard by an annulment, was a danger no monarch should tolerate. An older half-sibling with children… Tancred had been unwise about more than his interactions with Gwenith.  
   
So she had Jermyn stripped and bound. She worked his cock until he was hard enough for her to ride him and did just that until she forced him to come. He didn’t look at her at all while she fucked him, and she let him have that. Once.  
   
“There wasn’t much in that for me,” she told him afterward.  
   
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand and made every effort to get her off when she moved up his body to bring her clit near his mouth. He wasn’t terrible at it, but he wasn’t particularly memorable either.  
   
“I’ll expect better next time,” she told him. Two seconds later, she realized that she intended to keep him alive. She kept her face expressionless as she looked down at him. After a moment, she offered him a thin smile and stroked his cheek. “I’ve sent your children away. They’ll be honorably fostered, and they will not return.” She could have told him that his behavior would determine their futures, but she rather thought he’d assume that. At least, with his wife years dead, she didn't have to address that as a complication.  
   
He closed his eyes for a moment. “You’re going to blame me.” It was the barest whisper and had no hint of question about it.  
   
Her smile became more pronounced. “Of course. And you’re going to confess. Publicly.”  
   
He opened his eyes and looked at her. She saw both horror and fear in his face. “Then I die?” He sounded as if he hoped for it.  
   
“Quickly,” she promised.  
   
His expression told her plainly that he knew she was lying. He also clearly knew that it didn’t matter.  
   
She stood. “I am what I am. Your brother forgot that, forgot that he ruled on sufferance. If he’d succeeded in killing me, the… repercussions would have been much worse than anything I’ve done.” She rearranged her clothing so that she was covered again. “We could have killed everyone when we invaded. We simply chose a less bloody path. Conquered land, after all, isn’t worth much without people to work it.”  
   
She turned her back on Jermyn and surveyed the room. “We’ll need to move the corpse,” she told her guards in their own language. All of them spoke the local language, but she wanted Jermyn not to understand. Not because it was secret but simply because the uncertainty would hurt him. “I think we’ll keep him--” She twitched a hand toward the bound man on the floor. “--two rooms down. Wash him. Let him have water but no food, and don’t leave him alone, not for a second. Let him sleep if he can.”  
   
She looked squarely at the visual organs of each of the creatures who served her. They could appear human, but it took work enough that they seldom bothered in the areas where only her people walked. She had guards who were-- mostly-- human, but she’d wanted Tancred and Jermyn both to realize that the rumors about monsters in her family's service were entirely truth.  
   
She thought Jermyn might already have known. He'd faced her people during the invasion. She didn't think he'd actually faced her, personally, but it was possible.  
   
Had he guessed that she wasn't human either?  
   
“No marks that will be visible when he’s clothed.” She hesitated for a moment then decided that she had no interest in sharing. Not when she wouldn’t be present to watch. “He’s mine.” She put all of her power into the two words, making them binding on all her minions whether they were present or not.  
   
She looked down at Jermyn and said, in a language he could understand, “I could let them play with you, too.”  
   
He shuddered then went very, very still. He said nothing, just kept his eyes fixed on her.  
   
“Did you know he was going to try to kill me?” She didn’t know that she believed her husband’s assertion that Jermyn had not. Tancred had known by then that he would not survive. He might, possibly, have been trying to save his brother.  
   
“Tancred knew--” Jermyn’s voice broke a little. “He knew-- everyone knew-- that he was a dead man walking.” He turned his face away. “Tancred never quite grew out of believing that he could get his way if he just pushed hard enough. He… No one ever taught him that he could lose.”  
   
She was surprised by the pain in those words, and she rather thought they were genuine. She also noted that Jermyn had not answered her question. She smiled. She’d let him get away with it this time. “I suppose you learned that early.”  
   
“Living on sufferance is… not new.” He still didn’t look at her. “I told him to abdicate, to go to a monastery. I’d have gone, too. I thought you… might let us live that way.”  
   
“If he’d really surrendered, I might have let him live anyway. He was not terrible company. He could converse intelligently, and he… exerted himself to be pleasant in bed.” She considered for a moment. “I’d probably have killed you, though, which would have been a dreadful waste.” She bared her teeth at him. “Be obedient, Jermyn.”  
   
She turned away and left the room.  
   
   
Three days later, Jermyn stood in chains before the court and confessed to having murdered his brother, his king. He showed no sign of grief or remorse and didn’t respond at all to the whispers of condemnation that swept through the assembled witnesses.  
   
He went to his knees before Gwenith and begged for mercy for his children.  
   
She’d told him that he should do that, and since she’d never intended to harm his children, Gwenith was easily able to demonstrate that she could be kind. She kept her expression one of grief and said, “I am not that cruel, not even for this. Exile to some other part of the Empire will be enough.”  
   
The children were sweet, after all. And malleable. The girls, being only three, were fostering now with one of her cousins. What eventual tasks they’d be given remained to be seen and depended on talents and temperament.  
   
The eight year old boy, under a new name, was in training to serve in the army under one of her brothers. He would never return home. There was nothing for a traitor’s son but shame.  
   
The boy knew that, whatever he did, it would affect his sisters’ chances for happiness. He would not challenge Gwenith’s son for control of the kingdom, and she would allow him to see his sisters occasionally.  
   
That evening, Jermyn officially died. Gwenith had decreed that his birth merited a private death, possibly at his own hand, rather than a public and humiliating execution. She thought that the head she sent to be displayed at the gate was beyond convincing.  
   
And, really, why would anyone assume she’d let him live?  
   
They shared a meal, after. She sat at the table while he knelt, bound and naked, at her feet. She let him eat little bits of various delicacies from her hand. It was the first food he’d had since his brother died. She could tell that he very much wanted it, but even so, the shame of not being allowed to feed himself was almost too much.  
   
“You will become accustomed,” she told him.  
   
For a moment, he didn’t respond. Then he said, “I would very much rather not.” It wasn’t a challenge or a plea, just a simple statement of fact.  
   
She studied the curve of his back. “I can make it more terrible. Less so seems… unlikely.” She watched as his bound hands clenched and stretched repeatedly.  
   
He raised his head and looked up at her. “I didn’t think that was actually my choice.”  
   
She offered him a bit of oil soaked bread, placing it gently between his lips. She watched as he chewed and swallowed, and she wondered if, given the opportunity, he would try to kill her or try to get her to kill him. His brother’s death had been far from easy, and she’d made Jermyn watch every moment. He could have few illusions about what she might do. If she chose.  
   
“I would very likely have let him live,” she said softly, “if he hadn’t been stupid. What did he think my mother would do if he succeeded?”  
   
For a moment, his body shook with bitter laughter. “She would have killed us all, wouldn’t she? All but your son.”  
   
“Very likely.” She considered for a moment then gave him honesty. “Not for killing me. If he’d managed it, I’d have deserved it. No, she’d have destroyed you all for being _able_ to kill me.” She waited about three seconds then added, “Do you understand what I am?”  
   
He turned his head away. “Understand? No, but I know what I saw in battle. Tancred never believed me. He… needed to think you were all human.”  
   
“I am. Sometimes.” She gave him a moment longer then said, “Look at me.” She didn’t bother making the command harsh.  
   
He shuddered and turned back to her. “What now?”  
   
She was a little surprised that he managed to meet her eyes. “I haven’t decided.” She tilted her head to one side. “I never knew who you were.” She wondered if he’d understand that.  
   
“I didn’t want you to,” he admitted. “I thought I’d live longer.” He rolled one shoulder, probably, she suspected, in an effort to ease the strain from having his hands bound behind him. “It’s not as if there was anywhere to run, and… Even if there were, I don’t think the girls could have.”  
   
“Ah.” She understood that. Small children of most species were so very vulnerable. Even her son was. “There are parts of this world we haven’t touched yet.”  
   
“For how much longer?”  
   
She shrugged, acknowledging the point. “Are you still hungry?” She thought he was, but he shook his head. “Stand then.”  
   
He took two deep breaths then attempted to stand. She didn’t expect him to manage it. Even if he might normally, he was still weak from lack of food. He got one foot under himself and started to lever himself upward.  
   
She was next to him before he started to fall, one hand on each of his arms. She lifted him completely off his feet for a moment and wondered if he’d realize she was making a point.  
   
He didn’t try to pull away when she set him on his feet. He trembled a little but didn’t move otherwise.  
   
She gave herself time to walk around him, to touch his scars and admire his muscles. “You keep in shape,” she said, allowing just a hint of approval into her voice. “Your brother didn’t bother.”  
   
He flinched almost imperceptibly and didn’t say anything.  
   
“For tonight, I will be human. For tonight, I will be gentle.” She suspected that, in his current condition, he might not survive if she got carried away. Time enough for that later.  
   
He swallowed hard, and she traced the line of his throat. “And… tomorrow?” He sounded as if the words were choking him.  
   
“That’s tomorrow.” She pulled him close for a kiss and let her hands wander over his torso and down to his hips. She let her sense of smell sharpen for a few seconds so that she caught the scent of his fear and his anger. “I don’t usually give myself more than a few hours to play. You’ll be a novelty.” Days, weeks, months, she had no idea how long he might hold her interest. She took two steps backward and looked him over. “I might never kill you.”  
   
The look of utter horror on his face told her that he understood how strongly he might desire death.  
   
“You already want to die.”  
   
He knelt and bowed his head. He took a deep breath. “You have my children.”  
   
She considered telling him the truth, that his actions would have no effect on the fates of his children, but he probably wouldn’t believe her. If he did, he’d almost certainly start fighting her. Not because he’d win but because she might kill him for being too much trouble.  
   
“You haven’t offended me. Your pain may amuse me sometimes, but strong, honest emotion has… It is rarely given to me, so I take it.” She stepped close and stooped to put a hand on his head. “I hadn’t looked at you twice. Now, you intrigue me.”  
   
He didn’t move. As far as she could tell, he wasn’t even breathing.  
   
“Tancred would not have wept for you. I know that much about him.”  
   
Jermyn inhaled audibly. “Tancred never-- There were never consequences for him. When a child doesn’t learn consequences from small things--” He shook his head and didn’t finish the sentence. After a moment, he whispered, “I keep seeing the baby he was.”  
   
Gwenith had seen many of her siblings as infants. She didn’t understand why Jermyn thought that mattered. “He took your place as heir.” She’d have made sure such a usurper never survived infancy.  
   
“I never saw that being king was anything but pain.” He raised his head enough to look at her face. “Losing my mother almost killed my father. Did kill part of him. He gave her up because he couldn’t have the throne otherwise, not with a wife of low birth.”  
   
The words twisted with just enough bitterness for Gwenith to know he meant them. She considered for a moment. “And your wife--”  
   
“If she weren’t already dead, if I became king…” He shook his head. His back straightened. “At least you’re sparing me that.”  
   
“Stand up.” She was getting bored, and she let her impatience show in her voice.  
   
He stood.  
   
“Turn.” When he obeyed, she unfastened the binding on his wrists. “I want all of you tonight.” She traced the line of his spine. “Show me what you can do for me if I give you a little freedom.”  
   
“Will you--?” He went very still under her hand. “I don’t know what you like.”  
   
She pulled on his shoulder until he turned to face her again. “I’ll tell you, yes.” She studied his face. “I am far from fragile.”  
   
“I never thought you were.” He kept his eyes on the floor. “I’ve seen what even the weakest of your warriors can do, can survive.” He swallowed visibly. “I doubt you’re among the weakest.”  
   
“I think it is a pity you were never king.” She placed one hand on the side of his face and let her Shadows manifest. “I wasn't going to, not yet, but…” She shrugged.  
   
He stopped breathing for a moment as her Shadows thickened and split into tendrils that began to wrap his head. Once his face was covered, he started to struggle, to try to pull free.  
   
She deliberately covered his eyes and blocked his nose and mouth. “If I had done this to Tancred,” she said with some bitterness, “would it, do you think, have stopped him from being stupid? I didn’t want a husband who feared me. A mistake I will not make again.” She sent tendrils of Shadow into his nostrils and sliding between his lips, forcing his jaw open.  
   
He fought her as she pushed a thickening tentacle of Shadow deep into his throat. His hands clawed at her, but she was cloaked in Shadow and untouchable unless she chose it. His throat spasmed as he gagged and choked.  
   
“I like that,” she said softly. “I wonder how much you can take, how long before you pass out.”  
   
The scent of his fear was much stronger now, and that of his anger was almost gone.  
   
“I feel it, you know. Everything my Shadows touch.” She wasn’t certain he understood her words, not right then, at least. “It’s your bad luck to come after Tancred.” She hadn’t realized quite how angry she still was with her dead husband. She made the tentacle in Jermyn’s throat writhe and ripple.  
   
He gave up on attacking her and clawed at his throat.  
   
She gave herself over to sensation for almost a full minute. Then she slowly pulled back and watched, impassive, as Jermyn dropped to the floor, gasping and clutching at his throat.  
   
When he had gone still and was looking up at her, she said, “I could make you want that.” She reached out with Shadow to caress his back. She let tendrils touch his ass. “I could make you want that, too. I probably won’t, but I could.” She studied his face. She was nearly certain that he understood that him not wanting something was no actual barrier to it happening.  
   
He coughed then closed his eyes and whispered, “As it pleases you.”  
   
She smiled. “Yes.” Jermyn was definitely smarter than his younger brother. She sent her Shadows to touch every part of his body. “I enjoy sex-- and many other things-- as a human, but there is something to be said for being what I am.” She put deliberate stress on ‘what.’  
   
He shuddered under her touch. Then his muscles went tight as he fought to still himself.  
   
“Don’t,” she said. “I want that.”  
   
He made a small noise of protest, but she thought, from the feel of his body, that he was trying to obey.  
   
She went down on one knee next to him and ran a physical finger over his lips. “You weren’t completely terrible when I fucked you the other day.”  
   
He inhaled sharply.  
   
“Do you find my body attractive?” She was mildly curious. It made little difference in terms of what she would expect from him, but she had been designed to be attractive by local standards. She knew, however, that her people sometimes misjudged such things.  
   
“You’re beautiful.”  
   
She thought he was telling the truth. She also thought that he didn’t mean it as a compliment.  
   
“I would rather have kindness.” As he spoke, he met her eyes, and she saw just a hint of steel there.  
   
So he hadn’t quite crumbled after all.  
   
She shook her head. “Apart from my recent dealings with you, have you known me to be unkind?”  
   
He flushed and looked away.  
   
“Ah. You judge me by what I’ve done in battle.” She leaned close to speak in his ear. “And how many have you killed? How many have you executed? Personally or by proxy. How many were left to starve after your army passed through?” She was certain that he wanted to argue, to protest that it was different.  
   
But he was honest enough to know that it wasn’t. He’d been his brother’s sword arm and, before that, their father’s. His hands were at least as bloody as hers.  
   
She stood and turned her back on him. “Get yourself hard.” She started stripping off the clothing she wore out of respect for local customs and climate. She glanced back at him. “I hope you have… control. I want a good long ride.” She wondered if her body might be ready to conceive another child. There was some appeal in getting her second child this way, with more honesty about what she was and a father who wasn't a fool.  
   
At least Tancred hadn't had a chance to pass on anything but his genes.  
   
As to Jermyn-- Well, if it didn’t happen this time, there would be other occasions, and she’d enjoy the trying.  
   
“You do understand,” she went on without looking at him again, “that, if I’m not pleased, things only get more unpleasant. If you can’t please me this way, I will certainly enjoy watching some of my people fuck you. Many of them are less human than I am.” Now fully naked, she turned to face him. “Or would you prefer that?”  
   
He was working his cock with an almost grim focus, and she guessed that he found little arousing about his current situation.  
   
That would change.  
   
“I don’t understand.” He went still for a moment. “I’m not young. I’m not attractive. I’m not--” He shrugged.  
   
“You _understand_.” She shrugged. “I’m not intrigued by naivete. Looks-- Your people’s standards are different than mine.” She let her teeth show. With her Shadow manifested, the sharpness of her teeth was also unmasked. “A youth would fear the unknown. You _know_.”  
   
He took a couple of deep breaths then nodded. His hand started moving on his cock again. He studied her body, his eyes lingering on her breasts.  
   
She cupped her hands under them and lifted. “Like what you see?” She rubbed her thumbs across her nipples to see if he’d respond.  
   
His breath hissed between his teeth.  
   
She used one foot to push him onto his back then straddled his body. “You can pretend, if you want to, that this isn’t what it is. I won’t object to that.” She wondered if he actually could. Some could; some couldn’t.  
   
It wouldn't matter to her.  
   
She was more than ready when she lowered herself onto his cock. She allowed herself a little moan at feeling him inside her. Then she used her Shadows to guide one of his hands to her breast and the other to her clit.  
   
He didn’t misunderstand. His touch on her breast was tentative, but his fingers rubbed and circled and pressed firmly on her clit. He knew that much at least.  
   
She raised her body and then impaled herself again on his cock. “I’m not fragile!” She almost snarled the words.  
   
The hand on her breast squeezed. Then his thumb and fingers pinched and rolled her nipple.  
   
She gasped and pushed forward into his touch.  
   
He lifted his hips a little to press into her as she ground herself down on him.  
   
“Very good!” She bared her teeth at him. She dug her fingers into his sides and laughed when he flinched. She wrapped her Shadows around them both, blocking all light, and teasing parts of his body that her human limbs couldn’t reach.  
   
He managed to get her off once and was working desperately to do it again when he reached the point of no longer being able to hold off his own orgasm. He came with a ragged moan that sounded as if he was in pain.  
   
It wasn’t until some time later that she realized that what she’d taken for pain was actually his fear of what she would do to him after.  
   
She squeezed her knees into his sides. “Just because that’s done, don’t think we’re done.” She pulled his upper body toward her until he was sitting with her straddling his lap. She pressed his head against her, guiding him to her other breast, the one he hadn’t been fondling.  
   
His mouth found her nipple, and his teeth pressed into her flesh, gently at first but with increasing force.  
   
She laughed a little breathlessly. “I don't think you're strong enough to hurt me.” Physically, he wasn't, and she'd give him nothing else.  
   
He growled in response.  
   
She took it to mean that, if he hadn't known the certain cost, he'd find a way. He'd probably be more successful than his brother had been, assuming the same resources.  
   
She wasn't giving him those either.


End file.
